


Best Laid Plans

by Nokomis



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, crossposting LJ fic from days of yore, leathermouth era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 12:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nokomis/pseuds/Nokomis
Summary: Jepha corners Frank after the Leathermouth show.





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ [here](http://nokomis305.livejournal.com/175231.html) in Sept '08.

Frank's writhing on the ground with the mic cord wrapped around his neck and his hips bucking and panting and screaming even though the mic itself is too far away to pick up what he's saying.

Jepha is watching, trying to remember why the fuck he hasn't been hanging out with Frank lately and not being able to remember a single damn reason, and he corners him after the Leathermouth show, red marks from the cord still vivid across Frank's face and neck and wrists.

Jepha presses Frank up against the wall in the dressing room - the other guys are still there, and Frank has to get ready for the Reggie set in a few minutes, but Jepha doesn't care - and grazes his teeth along the delicate shell of Frank's ear as he says, "Been keeping secrets from me?"

Frank thrusts against Jepha's hips, and he's dazed with adrenaline and everything else that courses through your veins after a show like that, Jepha recognizes it all too well. He gives Jepha into a dirty, rough kiss before answering, "You never asked."

And Jepha shoves a hand down Frank's pants and his mind is reeling with plans but someone fucking taps him on the shoulder.

He reluctantly pulls away from Frank to glare, and it's Dewees, who says, "You can have him back after he plays this set, okay?"

He thinks Dewees’ grin is more than a little evil, and he hears Frank laugh shakily at whatever it is Dewees leans over and whispers to him as they get ready to go back on stage. Jepha watches as Frank strips out of his white outfit, throwing the sweat-stained clothes in an untidy heap as he digs his Reggie outfit out of his bag.

Frank has more tattoos than Jepha remembers; strange new patches of color and designs where before had been bare skin, and Jepha wants to inspect them all, trace them out with his fingertips and tongue. Frank towels off the worst of the sweat and grime from the Leathermouth show and then pulls on his new outfit, and Jepha thinks he also wants to bite the new softness of Frank’s belly. 

Frank gives him another glance before he goes out to play, and Jepha blows him a kiss. Frank grins and pretends to catch it, and then slaps his ass with that hand, and Jepha can’t help but laugh. He’d missed the little fucker. 

And then Jepha has to watch while Frank grins with kiss-swollen lips and plucks his way through the Reggie set. At one point Dewees in his hot pink shorts catches Jepha's eye before thrusting against Frank and making a comment into his mic.

Jepha doesn’t manage to catch Frank’s eye any during the gig - Frank has a tendency to face away from the crowd, and playing bass clearly isn’t second nature to him the same way that guitar is to him at this point. He just watches and waits.

The set lasts forever.

When the show is nearly wrapped up, Jepha slips off and steals a mic cord from Leathermouth's equipment, and after Reggie's set is finally, thankfully done, drags Frank into the bathroom backstage, locking the door.

Frank barely has time to say, "Enjoy the show?" before Jepha has shoved his pants down around his knees and gives him a sloppy, enthusiastic blowjob. Frank is sweaty and noisy and doesn't last long - he must have been hard against his bass for the last part of the show - and Jepha gives him one final lick before scooting away, still on his knees.

Frank tugs his pants up to his hips but leaves them undone and leans unsteadily against the sink, leaning back to rest his head against the mirror. 

"Do me?" Jepha says, voice rough, and Frank sees the mic cord. 

The discussion of what to do with it is brief, and Frank decisively wraps it around Jepha’s arms, pinning them behind him as Jepha squirms out of his jeans. The cord digs tight into Jepha's skin - his hands begin to go numb almost immediately, and by the time Frank loosely loops the cord around Jepha's neck, more for show than anything else, his skin is tingling and he feels secure and is aching for more.

Frank is spent, so he positions Jepha so that he can blow him, tugging on the cord on occasion as his head bobs, and Jepha is overwhelmed with sensation, the burning and pinpricks of numbness and desire building and clashing until he comes with a groan, barely aware enough to let out a warning for Frank.

They lay in a heap on the floor for a minute, Frank’s head resting on Jepha’s hip, both breathing heavily. The marks on Frank's skin are almost faded, but as Frank lazily unwinds the cord the ones on Jepha's own skin are vivid and bright.

"Thanks for coming," Frank says, then laughs. "To the show."

"My pleasure," Jepha says, and if he were less dazed he would probably crack a better joke. Someone bangs on the bathroom door, and Jepha thinks they probably haven’t even been in here that long, but it feels like he could stay here forever.

“The floor’s disgusting,” Frank says without making any move to get up.

“Probably,” Jepha replies, not really caring. The door rattles as someone knocks again, louder, and Jepha reluctantly sits up and tugs up his jeans. Frank watches him with heavy-lidded eyes as Jepha lifts his hips to get his pants on properly, and Jepha can’t resist making a little more of a show of it than necessary.

Frank stands up, leaning against the sink and buttoning his pants. Jepha watches lazily, then lets Frank help pull him to his feet.

“Fuck, we need to get together more often,” Jepha says. He’s only made it through a fraction of the list of things he decided he needed to do while watching Frank perform. 

Frank picks up the mic cord and winds it around his arm. Jepha thinks of Frank using that cord in his next show and grins.

“Anytime,” Frank replies and steps forward, pressing Jepha into the door and kissing him.

Jepha reaches up and tugs at Frank’s moustache when he pulls away, and, laughing, Frank opens the door, nearly sending Jepha tumbling to the floor.

“About fucking time,” grumbles the vaguely familiar guy who’d been banging on the door - Jepha thinks he’s in Leathermouth - and Frank flips him off cheerfully.

Jepha’s totally missed that motherfucker.


End file.
